The Gardener 82
We are to play the game of death to-night, my bride and I.The night is black, the clouds in the sky are capricious, and thewaves are raving at sea.We have left our bed of dreams, flung open the door and come out,my bride and I.We sit upon a swing, and the storm winds give us a wild push from behind.My bride starts up with fear and delight, she trembles and clings to my breast.Long have I served her tenderly.I made for her a bed of flowers and I closed the doors to shut outthe rude light from her eyes.I kissed her gently on her lips and whispered softly in her earstill she half swooned in languor.She was lost in the endless mist of vague sweetness.She answered not to my touch, my songs failed to arouse her.To-night has come to us the call of the storm from the wild.My bride has shivered and stood up, she has clasped my hand and come out.Her hair is flying in the wind, her veil is fluttering, hergarland rustles over her breast.The push of death has swung her into life.We are face to face and heart to heart, my bride and I.
Words in this poem
- tenderly adv.
- In a tender manner; with tenderness; mildly; gently; softly; in a manner not to injure or give pain; with pity or affection; kindly.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Gardener 82 is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Gardener, translated by the author from the original Bengali (Macmillan, London and New York, 1913; this text the 1915 printing), Project Gutenberg ebook #6686; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Rabindranath Tagore, The Gardener 82, in The Gardener (1913), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #6686, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/tagore-gardener/poem-82.html, id L27718.
About this section
The Gardener 82 is prose, printed in 1 paragraph. It is part of the edition and is kept for reading, but nothing here is measured: the line breaks are the printer's, so no metre, rhyme scheme or scansion is stated.
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.